Bonjour Poetry

Recently I was interviewed about being an Internet Meme Artist.  Here’s the result of that interview.  Please watch and share with your friends so you can help me keep the meme alive.

I love your lines.
your letterical spines

Something's coming...

… hope you’re in suspense.

Good morning birds.

I love nature
But those damn birds
Keep chirping
Burping hamr outside my window
The charm of letting me know
That it’s morning.
Not quite yet, its still 5 30
But soon the sun will rise.
And the demise of my sleep
Will continue with their peep peep peep.
Good morning birds.
Thanks for the warning birds.

Preservation

Carpet on my bare feet
Soft enough that dry toes meet
Little resistance, and almost no snags
As my foot drags lines
And carpet designs
For subconscious entertainment
Gliding arrangement
In the side show
Of our conversation.
Un-breaking your focus and making mine
In line preservation.

I will post every day for the next month… and some will suck.  Some posts with any luck will be forgotten
replaced with graced accounts of humor in verse
some will be remembered in the curse
of what-was-that-guy-thinking
when stumbling across pages and finding success followed by failure.

Now for something different.

There’s something out there called corporate personhood.

My friend and fellow poet, Ariel Luckey, wrote a poem showing his frustrations with this concept. We collaborated and made a video about his poem, “Corporations are not People.” I’m curious what people think about the whole corporate personhood thing.  I own a limited liability company for doing video production, but I can’t say I get into this much.

This is the first poem I’ve recorded of someone else reading that I then edited together.  Overall I’m happy with the result.  The F-word is in this poem, so please be mindful of those around you when watching the video. Thanks.

-Andy

When I’m out, it’s random things that make me write poems and take photos.  After dinner one night, my wife and I passed this brick wall.  and I loved it… the way the light was hitting it.  I had to get out and take photos… my wife stayed in the car.  I treasure moments when I’m able to stop what I’m doing and capture that in a photo.

Mortar

As if the mortar were a sorter of bricks, shadow, and light
I went to retrieve the camera from my car.
My wife, cold from the night, smiled at the sight
Through the window of her husband, in the dark.

Finding photos of texture and angles in the wall
I watched the grit that seeped out alive.
Suspended through time in it’s failing to fall
Trapped when it tried to survive.